November 2011
14 posts
Filling a tub with Tequila. Drowning in it.
Guess I won’t be driving for awhile. There goes my escape plans.
I. Dont. Need. Anyone.
Wrap your head around that, and stop trying to save me.
I. Am. Fucking. Ok.
The end.
“My heart, it breaks at the thought of her holding you.”
—He Is We - Blame It On the Rain (via quote-a-lyric)
No one is true anymore.
Why do people pretend?
Over it.